It becomes increasingly clear that in the face of adversity, we find our true selves.

The paranormal can be many things for a variety of reasons. For the most part within our reality here on this planet, there are the unseen, unknowable aspects of the darkness and only what seems to be like a handful of books to address any problems lurking within the shadows. Syfy has taken liberties with imaginative monsters and dark gabled windows that reflect back more than the naked eye can see. What happens when the darkness is real, the experiences are terrifying and the impulse is to run with nowhere to hide? It’s become a rudimentary and convoluted topsy turvy problem; the reality for some reason seems to be less terrifying to fanatical listeners and distantly obsessed observers because Horror and Syfy shows have taken everything to the extreme, the impossible, and the unthinkable. People who experience the darkness these days have to prove its existence to the naysayers, when years ago, on word of mouth only and a preacher’s visit, the said acknowledgment was enough.

With this being said, to an, “In the moment Experiencer,” there is no movie comparable to living and breathing the reality of shadows and mysterious creatures. The reality of the unexplained is not only a lonely endeavor but for most people, they instinctively loath the idea and without a doubt, resolutely avoid its path. Those few brave souls like Michael and myself who do venture forward towards the unknown, become acquainted with the shadows and the shadows forever follow us. This doesn’t mean that light doesn’t peek through the shadowy silhouettes; it means that once acquainted with the unknown, one becomes altered by its association.

Here are a few experiences I have had that I can’t explain. I’ve tried to figure out scenarios that fit perfectly like puzzle pieces even though these sequences are just as fantastical as the experience. Maybe this is the first clue, what seems to be complete fantasy probably is closer to the truth and reality than what we can ever know. Aliens, Shadow People, Men in Black, Black Ops and Cryptids welcome the occasional traveler through their domains or so we think. Maybe in some cases, it’s a bit more sinister.

I don’t want to put human thought into the minds of certain beings, Aliens, Cryptids or whoever lurks in the corners. But I must say, my human mind wants clarification and tutoring into the protocols of each group. How do we understand what exists alongside us that is ultimately as foreign to us as the distant star? Those dark and mysterious reclusive souls who stay within the shadows eventually come out and show themselves in the most unusual and convoluted ways. It comes down to seeing beyond our expected reality, our eyesight’s normal range so that we can see the depth of the exceptional unknown. The question is, how do we get past our minds roadblocks?

Locations can trigger memories as far back as our earliest childhood. Blocks and unconscious association to places and people can be the hardest of all to understand. Los Alamos, New Mexico is one of those places for me. As a child along with my older sister Holly, we realized that something was off, almost peculiar regarding the town itself. And I say town because it wasn’t very big in the 70s. We would go to visit my uncle and aunt and each visit was always accompanied by dread not only by me but my sister as well. Back then as a kid, I felt I was going to the Twilight Zone. It reminded me of a town hiding secrets and the people seemed to be strange not only in appearance but in some other odd manner that even to this day, I can’t put my finger on. My uncle worked for Los Alamos Labs but we never knew what he did, he took its secret to his grave.

Funny thing is, that I had been there a few times as an adult but I blocked out the way from both directions, a back way through the Jemez Mountains and the other off of I-25. With the knowledge of my childhood apprehension regarding Los Alamos, Michael and I decided to take a trip the back way into Los Alamos to see why I felt the way I did. It was lovely, the Jemez Pueblo was surrounded by red rocks and the Caldera further down the road, was magnificent in size. How on earth could I have forgotten such a beautiful place? As we went along the winding road getting closer to Los Alamos, my breathing became heavier and I started to get sweaty palms. We past an area of high grass along the highway that ventured out into pine trees. A flash of memory came back to me but I wasn’t sure at first what it was. A few days later, it hit me like a ton of bricks, a full blown memory that to this day, I can’t believe I had forgotten.

I was around 6 or 7 years old and I remember a group of men in military uniforms. Some in brown and others in blue except for … the Grey Aliens. They were testing me along with a selected group of children. We were all supposed to levitate over an area the size of a football field. They had us running along a large valley of tall grass surrounded by pine trees. I was scared and knew that I wouldn’t be able to levitate as they requested. My mind was literally mush so nothing could get through. I literally felt like a scared rabbit. I knew that the repercussions for not doing what they asked me to do was going to be a severe punishment but I didn’t care. I knew that if I ran a little behind the other kids that there might be a chance that I could escape. I didn’t see the soldiers that surrounded us when I made a run for it and I was immediately picked up scampering in another direction. The memory stops here.

Another memory came weeks later, I was back in the same area with the other children. The Greys were levitating over us and wanted us to follow them. They had instructions for us. It was a total mind manipulation, a third eye mind meld. I remember I physically saw through another way, I think my pineal gland and I felt tingly all over as if I was half in my body and half out. I levitated a little and would fall … constantly. I’m sure I was bruised. The other kids did the same but they didn’t seem to care if we were getting hurt, they just wanted us to keep up the levitation to a point to where we could float and move from one end of the field to the other. I remember I was levitating up to about 10 feet and I was looking down at the ground below me. It was such an exhilarating feeling of not only accomplishing what they wanted but entering another place in my mind. Some voice in my head told me that I was doing a good job. As a child, I liked pleasing this group of Aliens. Good things happened when I was able to do as they asked, but the consequences I use to suffer for my failures is still blocked. In a way, I’m glad I can’t remember.

The final memory which I believe involves my childhood handler is foggier than the other memories. I was holding a man’s hand who was very familiar to me. I looked up to him more as a father figure than anything. We were standing by a 4 door sedan. I knew it was my handler’s car. There were 4 men directly in front of us in military uniforms besides other vehicles that were military. One person in particular was a high ranking officer, I believe he was a Major. He was yelling at my handler, telling him he was inappropriate with me and getting in the way of my progress. I held my handler’s hand tightly because I didn’t want him to go away. At that very moment, I had a sinking feeling that things were going to change and never be the same. I knew they were going to make me leave in another car with some stranger who I didn’t know and who would be assigned as my new handler. Something happened though it’s foggy, someone took my arm as my handler pulled me closer to him and tried to fight off whoever was trying to take me away. The memory just fades away after that. I can’t remember what happened.

If I try to explain these memories, I can’t. They are as detailed as if they happened yesterday. How do I explain or prove them? This is hard to do.

Somehow, this has become quite the quandary to write about. I thought this would be easier then other topics in the past but in the back of my mind, the blurry memories, concealed and guarded by the child within, won’t budge, basically revealing meager flashbacks. Loyalty is perhaps the problem here or the understood dialogue of suppressed fears along with stern consequences. One thing I do remember is that sometimes I was a willing pupil and other times I was about as feral as an undomesticated barn cat, hissing with claws out.

I remember three different types of these so called, “men in black.” Why this is so, is really the million dollar question. All three seem to serve a purpose that has nothing to do with the other. I often wonder if they convene with each other. I think not.

Sunglasses have always been important to me since I was a very young child. I liked the feeling of hiding behind them, the obscure and apprehensive thoughts reflected in my eyes, hidden behind blackness. It’s a comforting habit that has never left me. The blacker the lens, the more I like them. As crazy as it sounds I have often thought this is why the men in black wear sunglasses. One group hides their dark objectives, while another hides the fact that they invoke fear as a reminder of consequences. The last group seems to have a more obscure purpose in mind. To me, they are the “real” men in black because their frequency or vibe is not familiar or comfortable to be around. In some ways I always preferred them to the other two who I call the imitators.

Sometimes what a child doesn’t understand is easier to handle then the familiar and nightmarish routine of brutality. The reality of iniquity can be the breaking point that shatters the conscious mind into fragments of a once balanced and unbroken psyche. When a child enters the equation, the end results are usually surreal because reality acquires an off-kilter sentiment that makes daily living seem like a divergent existence. There’s a reason for this contradictory life and I think its creation is by varying family dynamics, the kind that stipulate, children should be seen but not heard.

The most memorable and startling experience as a kid, that demonstrates this ideology was when I was ten or eleven years old. One ordinary day, walking home from school, I encountered the infamous black car many people talk about seeing. In some ways I feel lucky to have this memory. Weird I know, but for some reason I don’t think what I saw was the typical black car most people see when they experience the “real” men in black.

Walking halfway through my neighborhood, I started to feel very anxious. I felt them before they came up on me and I knew “they” had an unusual agenda that day. The car was quiet beyond belief so the only way I knew they pulled up beside me, was by the horrendous feeling in my gut. The car itself was interesting to say the least. It had a very long hood that extended out in front of it, three feet beyond a regular car’s hood. It was black with what seemed like silver detailing around the windows, front of the hood, tires and the back end of the car. Funny, I almost thought that they created an authentic cartoon car because it was so out of proportion. One long front door came swinging open almost blocking my path. It was pitch black inside, almost like a vacuum of some sort that reminded me of total darkness, void of space and time. A voice that sounded humanoid and male called out to me and told me to get into the car. I felt the presence of three people in the car even though I couldn’t see them.

Now mind you, this happened in broad daylight around 1974 or 1975. A few cars drove by but the strange thing was, nobody seemed to notice or look at the odd looking car. I remember I had a premonition that very morning that something was up because I really didn’t want to go to school that day. My instincts were right on the money and I knew that I was in big trouble. In some ways I wasn’t necessarily afraid of the three beings in the car, I was completely terrified of their intentions. They weren’t the regular men in black that I had remembered seeing in my past, their intentions seemed to be more ominous by nature. I vaguely remember seeing a long arm stretched out towards me and that’s when I ran for my life, literally. I was so flustered when I ran through the front doors of my parent’s house, that my Mom had to calm me down as I was talking a mile a minute, gasping for breath.

I remember her looking at me, and at that exact moment, knowing she didn’t believe me. It was a sinking feeling because I knew I was ultimately and completely on my own. Fortunately, the car didn’t return again but that didn’t matter. I was already traumatized not so much because “they” came around but more so because I was involved in a world that my parents didn’t know existed. If you think about it, it was the perfect scenario for “them” to hide in plain sight. No one would know the better and as far as my parents go, they never did.

Survival wasn’t just an instinct it was a necessity that unfortunately resulted in me becoming a paranoid and frightened kid through out my elementary and middle school years. I developed a really bad habit of jumping behind bushes, basically any bush within reach if I heard a car coming down the road. It’s kind of funny, to this day; I have to stop myself from wanting to jump behind bushes if I hear a car coming towards me. There have been a few times, the bushes won!

At age 5 or 6, I remember being in a cave with two “original” men in black trying to coax me to jump over a large campfire. I knew my limitations, especially my short little legs and said, “No,” matter of factly.

They walked over to me and said, “Good job.”

Knowing our limitations is just as important as reaching for our immeasurability’s. Not all the lessons I learned from the “original” men in black were scary or painful. To a certain extent, I always knew that they were testing my ability as a human child. The end results were never made clear but that didn’t matter in the long run because not knowing their agenda as a kid was a comfort in itself.

A memory I have that pops up in the back of my mind from time to time is one of the clearest I have of underground tunnels and facilities. I can see clearly in my minds eye, a dirt tunnel that had a circular glass atrium at the entrance with people walking around it in military fatigues and ordinary work clothes. I was 7 or 8 at the time and I remember that no matter how fast I ran towards the entrance, two men in black suits always caught up with me and carried me back to wherever I had come from. I was terrified of one specific room or was it one specific person? I can’t remember but it was one or the other. I remember being a problem child but I also remember that it took just one look or a few specific words from whoever was terrorizing me in order to get me to calm myself down.

I remember there where offices on either side of what eventually turned into a hallway from the main entrance. The men in black suits had a definite military link and I think in some ways they just changed clothes according to their orders of the day while the original men in black disregarded anything but their own agenda.

Another memory that I have is interesting because it’s one of the few that I have of being tied up. My wrists and ankles were tied to a large chair that reminded me of ole “Sparky” the electrocution chair used in many prisons. It was a bit odd because I felt like I was a very small child in size. My feet didn’t reach the floor and I couldn’t sit all the way back. It felt like a chair for someone who was either 9 or 10 feet tall. I looked at my wrists and saw that there were brown leather straps tied around them and I could feel the straps on my ankles but I couldn’t look down because of how I was tied. There was a presence to my back left and two men in black leaning up against a wall by a door in front of me. They seemed more disheveled in appearance, and I knew instinctively they weren’t military or the original men in black but government shills. They had their sunglasses on but it seemed nonsensical to me that they would think I wouldn’t know who they were. It’s all in the vibration that people and beings put out. As I stated in another article, if a persons soul is in charge, they know immediately who is who.

The voice to my back left told me to place my right palm onto a long silver needle that was about a foot long. I looked down at my right wrist and saw that the brown leather strap was untied. None the less, I adamantly said, “No!”
The voice told me more forcefully again to place my palm over the needle and I said, “No. You can’t make me.”

The two government men in black started to laugh at me and I immediately lunged towards them because I wanted to beat the crap out of them. I instinctively didn’t like them from the get go and they knew it. They laughed harder as I fought the leather straps. I knew I had one hand free and as I was focusing on untying my left wrist, all of a sudden, my right hand started to move on its own volition. I was stunned and horrified that I had no control over my own hand. Whoever was behind me, moved my hand either with telepathy or some other kind of skill over the needle. I tried and tried to stop my hand but to no avail. Just as my right palm went down on the large needle, I yelled, “No!” I felt the needle prick my palm and as I tried to resist, I slowly blacked out.

As you can see, the different types of men in black make the difference in experiences and outcomes. All three have their place in history by infamous legends of truths and half truths. What I find interesting is that history has all three feign ignorance of their iniquitous positions. With the three groups working out their agenda’s, figuring out who, what where and why is futile.

If I thought my childhood memories were an illusion or some misplaced memories that weren’t mine at all, I wouldn’t be writing about this. I realized that my life was out of the ordinary, even at a young age. In my late twenties, I guess I ignored the childhood memories because I was trying to live a life that everybody else seemed to be able to live more easily than me. Roadblocks of the mind can be really hard to take down later in life. Chipping away at my obstructed fears was as futile as understanding, why me.

The last experience I can say I have had with men in black was when I was 28, coming back from Egypt. I had an emotional and crazy trip back with a few blunders that could have been detrimental in me never coming home to the States again. I will leave this story for another time since it basically could be a book of epic proportions.

My flight arrived in Paris and I was exhausted and twitterpated beyond belief as I got off the plane and started walking on the tarmac leading into the airport. Two men in black with the typical sunglasses came out of nowhere, standing to my right side. One of them reached for me and told me that I needed to come with him. They weren’t the “real” men in black but government men with American accents. I looked at them and basically went zero to sixty within the blink of an eye. With my expletive answer along with my loud outburst, I walked away from them never looking back. They didn’t go after me and looking back at my demeanor, I really don’t blame them.

In the end, I don’t see, men in black as terrifying monsters. Mysterious agendas can turn men or anyone else into monstrous beasts that make the average persons mind cower in fear. Maybe just maybe the mind holds on to such fears because the truth is, people want to be apart of conspiracies or in the middle of preventing some catastrophic demise of humanity. Syfy lives because in our minds there is truth in the unfathomable high strangeness of the unknown.

The old saying, knowledge is power, speaks volumes here. If we were told what our part of the agenda was, maybe life would be a lot easier. But then if “they” told us, life as we know it would never be the same.

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